As Time Goes By

In addition to the dementia that has stolen my mother's short-term memory and left her in a state of almost constant confusion, she has recently been battling health issues and I have felt the many miles between us most keenly. If she were within driving distance, I would be able to visit more often and possibly stave off her difficulty with recognition. Alas, my parents selected Florida for their retirement, and although they are closer to friends and colleagues (many other Salvation Army officers), we kids are scattered across the countryside (IL, KY, IN, TX, and WI) and don't get the chance to visit them as often as we'd like. I was privileged to spend several days with them last week and had a lovely visit, if difficult at times.

One difficulty was the shock of seeing how much my mother has aged and shrunk since I saw her last. Here is a photo of my mother and father outside their Florida home, taken several years back:

I wanted to make things as easy for them as possible, so instead of having them retrieve me, I paid a shuttle service to take me from the airport to their door. Arriving (in what must have seemed "out of the blue" to her), she paused and seemed quite hesitant for a few moments, but did, in the end, know me. I could still tell, however, that my arrival was stressful for her. It disrupted her routine existence and set her on edge. I arrived in the evening and when I came out to the front room the next morning, she was as startled as she had been the night before.

That second day was a Wednesday, and on Wednesday mornings they attend a women's meeting at the corps (the Army term for church building). She grew quite agitated when she learned that I would be accompanying them. She quietly tried to express to my dad her concern that she wouldn't know how to introduce me. However, once we arrived and were seated at one of the tables, she calmed significantly as I introduced myself and even recognized several individuals I already knew from the past. She relished introducing me to her best friend, Helen, and Helen and I had delightful discussion while we ate a lunch together at the close of the program. My mom put ketchup on her burger, but accidentally swept her arm across it and got a ketchup stain on her white sweater (her favorite white sweater, I learned). From that point on, she discovered the stain, with wonder, numerous times and we patiently repeated the explanation (it was very hard when my dad had to wash the sweater and continually remind her why it was in the wash).

My photography skills leave much to be desired, but here is the best current photo I snapped of myself with my parents during the visit:

She has lost a significant amount of weight (was vomiting frequently and experiencing pain all over, but especially in her back - a CT scan revealed she has kidney stones, so that will have to be dealt with and hopefully, she will gain back some of the weight).

We returned home and my dad was eager to watch some episodes of the British series "As Time Goes By" with me. My mother spends a good deal of her time focused on completing jigsaw puzzles and playing Solitaire on the computer. I was able to encourage her to sit down at her piano and play a few things for me (she struggled when reading music, but played a few from memory without flaw).

By late afternoon, it was time to head off to Bible study, Songsters and Band. She came up to me and said, "Well, it was nice to see you; now we have to leave" (indicating she wanted me to go). When I told her I was going along to the evening activities at the corps, she grew intensely distressed and didn't want me to go. I offered to simply stay back at their house, but my dad insisted that she would calm down once they arrived at the corps. Again, I think the chief source of her agitation was her fear of the necessary introductions.

Dad was right and she was calmer once there. He introduced me and I joined right in with the activities (they even unearthed a horn for me to play in the band). By the close of the band rehearsal, my mom approached with tears in her eyes and exclaimed that I was amazing and she was so proud of me.

I discovered that my siblings have provided my parents with several photo books to aid my mother's memory. It was great fun to look them over. I fought jealousy for their expert photography skills, but I was absolutely blown away by one of the albums, made by my sister, Dawn. It contained a myriad of photos from our past (some photos I had never seen). I was so drawn to them that I attempted to take my own photos of her photo album - ha!

Isn't this the most unflattering photo you can imagine - myself wearing a football helmet and pads, holding my protruding Buddha belly - ha!

I love this page because it shows a great photo of me with my mother!

Every kid has to have a bathtub shot, right? This photo (and several of the previous ones) shows the close bond between us three oldest. At 18 months apart, we were stair-step kids and did everything together.

I was perplexed at how Dawn had access to all these old photos. It turns out she had visited once and took photos of their photos (in boxes). Of course, my photos of her photos of their photos - well, bear with me!

On Thursday, my mom seemed to feel more comfortable with my presence. By Thursday evening she was already mourning the fact that I had to leave. She wanted them to drive me to the airport and we had the same conversation multiple times explaining that I had a shuttle coming to get me (almost as many times as the conversation asking where I live - poor thing).

Alas, Friday morning, I woke to a text saying my afternoon flight had been cancelled (possibly due to the president's visit to Indianapolis that afternoon). I re-booked for the 7:45 p.m. flight and was actually really glad it turned out that way. I was able to accompany them to the hospital and sit with my mom while my dad stood in various lines to pick up the CT scan images required for her Monday doctor appointment.

All in all, it was a very sweet visit. I was touched by my dad's patient, long-suffering care of my mother. I was thrilled to have time with her before they make a decision about how to proceed with the kidney stones (we fear she might have to have surgery and the anesthesia might increase her decline). There were a few moments of intense agitation and angry tirades (mostly linked to confusion - she answered the phone once when my dad didn't hear it because he was blending up a nutrition shake for her, and when she couldn't understand the caller, she began to scream and slammed the phone down - hopefully, it was a telemarketer - ha!).

I'm sure a time will come when my dad has to place her in a home for more extensive care, and that will be extremely difficult for both of them. She does best when she is in her zone of normality at home (although she said over and over how much she loves going to the corps). The past is gone - as those pictures attest. Our way of life has changed and will continue to alter even more, as time goes by.